I’m Jennifer Ann Shore.
I’ve been called a writer, journalist, marketer, blogger, traveler, bad joke teller, terrible karaoke singer/rapper, and generally decent human (and other not-so-nice things — mostly behind my back, in high school, and/or in group texts I’m not a part of).
At age 16, important-ish things happened: I started reading Cosmopolitan (yes, I’m not sure how I snuck that past my conservative mid-western parents, either), ventured outside of the U.S. for the first time (still terrified of customs officials to this day), and picked up my first job (working as a hostess — I wore many headbands and a lanyard with buttons and pins on it and I’ve stopped cringing over those things for the most part). Also, I decided that I was going to be a writer.
Somewhere between then and when I moved to New York City in 2012, reality slapped my narcissist, capitalist, feminist, masochist, other -ist words face right across the cheekbone, and SURPRISE!, I discovered that things don’t turn out like you dream them up to be when you’re behind the wheel of your second-hand SUV in your late teens.
Still, I’ve managed (with varying degrees of success) to make writing a part of my everyday life with the hope that someone as lovely as yourself would read it.
(And I’m willing to bet at least three dollars that you’re here because you saw me on social media, read some of my clips, received a link in an email chain from my mother, or somehow made your way down a Google search page result vortex to one of my blogs. Regardless, I’m honored you’ve decided to join me, and I’d love to virtually meet you, but if you’re shy or just want to continue a one-sided conversation from the comforts of your own life, I understand.)